


there’s four dimensions on this map (but you wish that you could stay)

by ataratah



Category: due South, 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Background Relationships, Crack, Cultivation Sect Politics (Módào Zǔshī), Demons, Due South - Freeform, Fluff, Found Family, Ghosts, Gods, Humor, M/M, Minor Mòběi-jūn/Shàng Qīnghuá, Minor Original Shěn Qīngqiū/Yuè Qīngyuán, Roommates, Xin Mo is now bingpup, because they're ghosts, other MXTX novels, some major characters are dead but it’s ok I promise, temporary major character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29973066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ataratah/pseuds/ataratah
Summary: Luo Binghe first came to Cang Qiong on the trail of the killers of his father and, for reasons that don’t need exploring at this juncture, remained attached as a liaison with the demon consulate.When his asshole partner, Shen Jiu, gets the chance to go deep undercover to investigate an old mystery from his past, someone else will need to take his highly visible place at Luo Binghe’s side. And no one knows how to impersonate Shen Jiu better than his younger brother, Shen Yuan. And the little fact that he’s been dead for five years and working under the heavenly official in charge of mysteries, makes him perfect for the job.There’s only three rules Shen Yuan has to follow: he can’t reveal his identity, he can’t say who killed him, and he absolutely can’t stay in the world of the living after the job is up.
Relationships: Luò Bīnghé/Shěn Yuán | Shěn Qīngqiū
Comments: 29
Kudos: 105





	there’s four dimensions on this map (but you wish that you could stay)

**Author's Note:**

> You should not need to have seen due South to read this fic. I’m just using it for inspiration, and because it’s one of the fandoms really close to my heart. I did have a lot to say about it, but didn’t want the notes to be nearly as long as the fic, so if you’re curious, you can check out my [tumblr post](https://ataratah.tumblr.com/post/645338443398905856/theres-four-dimensions-on-this-map).
> 
> Finally, although this is a standalone episode, there's more to the series and I don’t know how long it will be or when I will finish it, so feel free to subscribe and come back when it’s done!

####  **1: Shen Yuan gets an assignment**

By the time the memos reached Shang Qinghua, they were written on paper, and folded into small, self-navigating airplanes. But they started out as prayers, burnt offerings, or wishes so fervent they became manifest. Shang Qinghua had invented the System not long after he'd died, and the shape of the memos that came from Ling Wen's department was chosen in honor of his old pen name from his time as a mortal author.

His books were addictive trash, but that was apparently not a deterrent to his fans among the literature gods. 

Shen Yuan looked up when Shang Qinghua made an incredulous noise. There had been a slight commotion when he'd flailed around trying to keep the memo from flying into his noodles but that was normal. The look he was giving Shen Yuan was not. 

"It’s for you, bro."

"I'm not a god, I don't get prayers."

"Maybe you're getting a promotion," Wei Wuxian said, making jazz hands, "congrats."

When Wei Wuxian had first arrived in the afterlife, he'd been wounded emotionally and spiritually. Manic and jittery, it was impossible for him to focus, and when he laughed, it often had a bitter edge to it. Shen Yuan understood though. Death could be a bitch like that. He'd leveled out lately though, and the smile he had now was one of the offensively blinding ones that invited you in on the joke.

"Should we show it to the boss first?" Shen Yuan asked, taking the airplane gingerly.

"Show me what?" Xie Lian asked, coming into the breakroom and looking at them curiously. 

Xie Lian had ascended to godhood for the third time about a decade ago, and had been assigned all the complex supernatural disasters and mysteries ever since. Eventually Ling Wen had started assigning him dedicated officials from the Middle Court of Heaven for support—ghostly deputies (mostly cultivators) who had the potential to ascend but died too early, like Shen Yuan and Wei Wuxian—and Shang Qinghua a minor literature god who had ascended on the dubious merits of his epic porn novels.

"Are you going to cook something, boss?" Wei Wuxian interrupted. He was the only one who still sometimes tried Xie Lian's cooking because 'I can't die twice' and 'how will I know which recipes can be weaponized if I don't try them?' were statements that seemed reasonable to him.

"No, I'm meeting San Lang in a bit for lunch," Xie Lian said, not noticing that Shang Qinghua and Shen Yuan immediately relaxed, "do we have a new case?"

Shen Yuan unfolded the airplane and read it with a sinking feeling, before handing it to Xie Lian, "It looks like I do."

####  **2: Luo Binghe fights a dragon**

After three days of fighting, Luo Binghe wasn’t eager to face the white dragon whose coiling tail circled the icy cavern at the heart of the arctic region of the Endless Abyss. And if it stayed asleep, he wouldn’t have to.

He motioned the large black dire wolf stalking beside him to wait, and crept forward, balancing his weight carefully on the soft soles of his boots. His quarry, a crystal cut in the shape of a blooming lotus, sat alone on a pillar in the center of the chamber. He stretched out a hand to reach for it when the low tones of the Imperial March began to sound from his pocket.

He winced, and fumbled to silence his phone but he wasn’t quick enough. A large blue eye blinked open, rimmed in white scales, and focused on him. He lunged for the crystal just as the pink mouth yawned open and breathed out snow and ice, freezing his hand to the pillar. 

The ringtone was reaching it’s crescendo, barely muffled from his pocket, providing a dramatic soundtrack to the entire clusterfuck. The worst part was knowing that Shen Qingqiu, to whom the ringtone belonged, would absolutely not call back or leave a message because of some kind of made-up asshole principle only he understood. And getting reception in the Endless Abyss was a bitch to start with, and only remotely possible because of the talismans he’d etched into the case.

The dragon clashed his teeth on empty air, as Luo Binghe dodged awkwardly around the pillar, trying to wrench his hand free from the pillar and draw Zheng Yang at the same time. 

The dragon darted in for another strike as Luo Binghe brought the hilt of his sword down on the ice encasing his numb fingers. The crystal cut into his frozen palm where he was cradling it protectively, but he couldn’t afford to hit the ice too hard, lest the force shatter it. And meanwhile, the dragon had just frozen his foot to the floor, fuck.

“Xin Mo,” he called, reaching his limit.

The dire wolf trotted into the cavern, unconcerned at the now ice-slick floor, snapping his inch long fangs at the dragon.

It reared back, giving Luo Binghe space to maneuver. He got his hand free just in time to toss the crystal into his qiankun pouch, and, more importantly, to answer the phone. 

“Yes,” he answered breathlessly.

There was a judgmental pause, probably because it had taken him so long to answer, and then “Did you get it?”

Luo Binghe tosses the pouch in his hand once, and then tucks it securely into his sleeve.

“Yes,” he replied again. Not for the first time, he wondered if this crystal was really important, or if it was a ruse to get him away from the sect. Shen Qingqiu was never really open about his activities, but he’d been especially cagey lately, and impatient with Binghe’s questions. 

“Good,” Shen Qingqiu’s cold voice grew staticky, the signal beginning to break up—maybe because the dragon was losing it at Xin Mo, and spraying more and more of the cavern with thick layers of ice that the wolf just nimbly dodged. “...time you get back, I won’t be...” There was a longer, louder burst of static, and Luo Binghe pulled the phone away from his ear in reflex. By the time he heard SQQ’s voice again he was saying “...omise you’ll look after him.”

“Of course,” Luo Binghe said obediently, “Wait, who?”

But there was only more static until the phone disconnected abruptly.

####  **3: Shen Yuan goes undercover**

Before he’d died, Shen Yuan had expected Yue Qingyuan to become his brother-in-law before too long. He knew Yue Qingyuan had bought the ring, the gossip network between Liu Mingyan and his sister, Shen Su, was extremely reliable that way.

But now he was sitting in front of Yue Qingyuan, disguised as his brother, and deeply conflicted about the fact that the proposal, and subsequent marriage, had never happened. 

On the one hand, he was deeply, deeply relieved that he wasn’t going to have to pretend to be married to Yue Qingyuan for however long this lasted. But on the other hand, his heart ached when he thought of how lonely Shen Jiu must be… whether or not his eternal resting bitchface ever let it show. His brother had always kept a careful distance from the rest of the sect, still the distrustful and wary product of their childhood. And how he’d ended up as the partner to the demon liaison when he hated demons was a complete mystery. As much as he hoped that Shen Qingqiu would let himself be close to Luo Binghe, he doubted it.

Yue Qingyuan’s own expression was complicated, and he averted his eyes from Shen Yuan’s—now Shen Qingqiu’s—as though looking at him was painful. “The information regarding your role as Shen Qingqiu is strictly need-to-know. And most of the sect does not need to know,” he said.

Shen Yuan leaned forward, “Do you think there's a mole?”

"I doubt anyone here is a double agent, or an informant for Hu—the group your brother is investigating, but gossip can travel too far once it's shared around."

"I see."

A slender silver band clung to Shen Yuan’s wrist. It had no latch, and was etched with arcane symbols, a talisman that kept his spirit bound to a physical form, and specifically this disguise. With his own powers, he could only maintain a corporeal form for a limited amount of time outside of heaven or the ghost realm, let alone convincingly eat, drink, or bleed if he was injured. With the talisman, he was bound to this body, indistinguishable from a living person, until Shen Jiu returned from wherever he was. 

Seeing his gaze on the band, Yue Qingyuan handed him a bulky looking smart-watch.

Shen Yuan fastened it on over his wrist, hiding the bracelet, though he frowned a little dubiously at it. “Would my brother really wear something like this?”

Yue Qingyuan chuckled dryly, “Tell anyone who asks that I gave it to you, and that you hate it.”

Shen Yuan winced and nodded.

"We'll tell your partner the truth, of course. He works with Shen Qingqiu too closely to be fooled for too long, and you know how jumpy cultivators get about possession. I don't want him lashing out at you before you can explain. I'll pull him aside before your first mission to give him the details."

This seemed like a reasonable plan. Except just then the small, shabby shed where they kept extra office supplies—and Luo Binghe's s _leeping quarters,_ what the _fuck_ —caught fire. 

####  **4: Luo Binghe comes home to fire and an imposter, in that order**

Rushing back from the Abyss, Luo Binghe was just in time to see his home for the past five years—the Cang Qiong Sect supply shed—crumble into ash. The last beam gave way with a groan, and embers and melted ballpoint pens rolled to his feet.

"Good riddance," Tianlang Jun said, appearing beside him soundlessly. 

Xin Mo let out a sneeze of annoyance at the unexpected appearance of the ghost of Luo Binghe's father. 

"Good boy," Tianlang Jun petted Xin Mo's head absently, careless of the way Xin Mo shied away from the insubstantial hand passing through his head. It felt cold, and kind of like pins-and-needles, Binghe knew from experience.

“How can you call it good?” Luo Binghe stared at the wreckage expressionlessly, “it was the only place I had to stay. And the printer toner in there was worth at least three times my salary.”

“If you would dig up any of the treasure stashes I’ve offered to show you, you wouldn’t need a salary,” Tianlang Jun said, not for the first time.

“That would be a nicer offer if you remembered which traps you’d left guarding them,” Binghe grumbled.

“Think of it as a learning experience,” Tianlang Jun said loftily.

“I just want a place to sleep,” Binghe interrupted, rubbing his eyes wearily. His stamina might be good compared to a human’s, but he’d been in the Abyss for three days, and it was very much _not_ restful.

Suddenly he felt a gentle hand pat his shoulder—warm, _not_ pins-and-needles cold—and a soft voice right by his ear said, “Of course you do, Binghe. We’ll get this sorted out, and find you a better place to stay, hm?” 

Luo Binghe turned his head to see Shen Qingqiu. He was in his sect robes as usual, his long silky hair trailing softly in the wind as usual. His eyes were wide with concern and his face had an open and fond expression which was _not at all_ usual and actually fairly alarming. He glanced briefly at his father to see what he was making of it, but Tianlang Jun had disappeared to wherever he went when he wasn’t harassing Binghe. Robotically, he turned back to Shen Qingqiu again, who was now smiling at him. A real smile, not a mocking one, even.

Binghe blinked hard, but the smile was still happening.

He choked down the swift glimmer of hope that maybe Shen Qingqiu was finally… but no, it was more likely that he was playing nice until he got the crystal lotus he’d sent Binghe for. He pulled it from his qiankun bag and held it out where it glimmered in the sunlight, a million points of light refracting to create a subtle rainbow aura around it.

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes crinkled in delight, though he shielded most of his expression with his fan, “It’s beautiful, Binghe! What is it?” he asked, leaning forward to look at it curiously.

“It’s the crystal lotus you asked me to bring you?” Luo Binghe said, alarm bells ringing wildly in his mind. However, he kept his voice and expression even, “from the Endless Abyss?”

“ _I_ did? From the Abyss?!” Shen Qingqiu looked briefly horrified, and then his face smoothed out as Binghe watched, peerless and serene, “Right, I did ask for that, thank you. Binghe, the sect leader needs to speak with you when you have a moment.”

Of all the sects that kept small campuses like this in X City, Cang Qiong was the only one with a demon liaison, and Yue Qingyuan’s preferred method of dealing with that fact was to ignore it, and by extension Luo Binghe, unless it was absolutely necessary. When they did meet, it was never exactly terrible. They were both excruciatingly polite to each other, but they were never good either. 

Before he could leave, Xin Mo let out a short howl, his fluffy dark fur standing on end, and his the demon sigil on his forehead glowing in warning.

“More fire?” Binghe asked him.

“Where?” Shen Qingqiu fanned the smoke from the supply shed out of his eyes and scanned the grounds.

Xin Mo looped around in the small circle that meant follow-me, and took off running towards… oh. 

That wasn’t good.

####  **5: Shen Yuan’s day gets worse**

“Oh, now you show up,” said a demoness who was wearing an eye-catching outfit of scarlet silk and black leather. She was also, notably, holding a lighter in her hand as a once-graceful courtyard burned merrily behind her.

Suddenly recognizing the building, Shen Yuan cursed, “Shit that’s—”

“Your house, yes,” Luo Binghe said. He sounded slightly smug about it, which was concerning, but not as concerning as the gang of large demons behind the woman wielding cans of gasoline.

“Do I have your attention now? Honestly, I burned down the pathetic place where you sleep and you still didn’t catch up until I was burning down your precious partner’s home. Don’t you think that’s pathetic, Luo Binghe?”

Shen Yuan channeled his brother’s aloof persona and most biting tone, “Pathetic? You are the one setting fires like a—” he reached for something particularly cutting, but had to settle for, “hooligan.”

She just tossed her braided hair and scowled, “To prove to you how poorly protected Luo Binghe is here! It _is_ pathetic. Luo Binghe, you’re the heir to the demon empire, and instead of ruling, you’re here in X City, liaising with humans!” she said, stomping her designer boot heel, “We need you, ok? Come back already.”

“Boss,” one of the demon thugs interrupted. He was over 7 feet tall and was idly swinging a giant hammer into one of the few remaining walls of Shen Qingqiu’s courtyard, “isn’t he exiled or something?”

“That’s not important—” she insisted.

“—it is somewhat important,” Luo Binghe cut in politely. He was standing as straight as a young tree, his hands clasped behind his back, his face smooth of all expression, but his eyes and demon mark were beginning to glow threateningly. 

The last time Shen Yuan had seen Luo Binghe, he’d been just on the cusp of adulthood, with a sweet, starry-eyed face and a narrow, youthful figure, and it had been fun to try and spoil him with praise and gestures of affection until his small dimples appeared. Since then, he’d clearly grown up and grown harder, taller even than Shen Jiu, and substantially broader in the shoulders, but the biggest difference was the look in his eyes, as though he didn’t need a lighter to set these demons on fire.

After Tianlang Jun’s death, and the disappearance of his heir when he was a child, the demon realm had fractured into an uneasy mix of small city states and kingdoms, each vying for supremacy within an unstable alliance. No matter how easy the demoness made it sound, unifying it back into one empire wouldn’t be as simple as going back and sitting on a throne, especially for an exile. 

“What’s more important is that these humans won’t even fight—”

The demoness’s words were cut off by Liu Mingyan, who jumped into the scene feet first, coming down out of the sky to kick one of the minions until he flew back into the rubble with a faint, “oomph.” She followed that up by a spinning kick to the woman’s face, or else Shen Yuan would have bet money she’d have kept talking. Instead she had to dodge with a neat backflip. 

“Liu Mingyan,” she said, after a few more blows were exchanged, “we meet again.”

“Sha Hualing,” Liu Mingyan greeted her, “you brought company to our rematch?” She looked entirely unphased at the idea that she’d have to fight the entire group of demons and their leader on her own, but when Shen Yuan had last known her at 15, she’d been bound and determined to grow up just like her brother. And he would never turn down a fight either.

Sha Hualing protested, “This isn’t our rematch, this is—”

“You came to my sect,” Liu Mingyan said flatly, her hand clenching on her sword, “and didn’t plan on fighting me?”

“You were supposed to be on a mission,” Sha Hualing explained, “so I didn’t expect—”

Shen Yuan leaned toward Luo Binghe and whispered, “Should she know Liu Mingyan’s schedule like that?” He was keeping in mind Yue Qingyuan’s implication that there might be an information leak in the sect, but Binghe just shrugged at him dismissively.

“You were trying to avoid me?” Liu Mingyan asked, seemingly more upset about that than Sha Hualing knowing her schedule. Her qi was spilling out around her until her hair began to rise on invisible breezes. 

“Oh shit,” Sha Hualing said, and then she was too busy fighting to say anything else. 

Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan did their best to keep the back-up demon dancers from interfering, despite being outnumbered, but the odds soon shifted in their favor as more cultivators showed up from around the sect.

A blast of qi cracked the pavement at Sha Hualing’s feet and she looked up wide-eyed as Liu Qingge flew toward them.

“Don’t be mad, Mingming, but it’s time for me to leave,” she said, and tossed down a small object that exploded, filling the air with red mist. 

Shen Yuan pulled a coughing Luo Binghe out of the mist. He didn’t have to breathe himself, but he coughed a few times for effect, and looked around.

Sha Hualing had enough of a head start that by the time they followed her to the parking lot, she and her gang were already pulling out into the street on a small fleet of sleek motorcycles.

"Where would she go?"

"The consulate? She could try to go there for asylum."

"Good idea. Uh, how—"

"We'll drive," Binghe said shortly.

"Right." Sword flying was not encouraged outside the bounds of the sect. Something about the flying weapons made civilians nervous. So Shen Jiu had a car. Unfortunately Shen Yuan had not kept up with what car his brother was driving now. It hadn't been a priority while he was dead, and the fires happened before Yue Qingyuan had fully briefed him. He reached in his qiankun bag for the keys and tossed them to Binghe with forced nonchalance, "You drive."

Binghe raised one perfect, beautifully shaped eyebrow. "You said I'm not allowed to drive your car again on pain of death," he said, "not after ‘the incident’." And then he tossed the keys back.

However Xin Mo did a wolfish sort of grumble and trotted to a green luxury sports car that practically screamed Shen Jiu.

He unlocked the door for Luo Binghe to get in, and Luo Binghe held back the seat for the wolf to jump in the back before he could protest. Did his brother really let a dire wolf into the car? Then he noticed that there was a protective cover over the bench, and a wolf sized bucket seat buckled in on the passenger side. 

Shen Yuan wished, not for the first time, that he knew what his brother’s relationship with Binghe was like.

Binghe said nothing as Shen Yuan turned on the GPS for directions to the demon consulate, but the silence was heavy in the car, and Shen Yuan breathed a sigh of relief when they stepped into the consulate.

Only to freeze when he saw Shang Qinghua kicking his heels at the reception desk. 

"What are you doing here?" Shen Yuan hissed.

"He works here, don't you remember?" Binghe said.

"Uh, I'm gonna get my king, this seems like his kind of problem,” Shang Qinghua said nervously, and then squirreled off down the long hallway.

_"Your king?"_ Shen Yuan sent telepathically through their private communication array, _"what the hell?"_

_"Gonna need you to calm all the way down and not blow my cover, bro. I'll explain later. Maybe."_ Shang Qinghua replied before rudely closing the connection.

Shen Yuan scowled but knew he had a point. 

Shang Qinghua had left a bag of melon seeds on the reception desk and Binghe picked it up casually and offered it to him. Shen Yuan took them just as casually, happy to at least avenge his irritation by eating Shang Qinghua’s snacks.

Luo Binghe watched him eat the melon seeds impassively for a long moment and then with a falsely contrite expression he said, "Oh how rude of me, you hate melon seeds," and took them out of Shen Yuan’s numb hands, putting them back on the desk. 

Shen Jiu did hate melon seeds, damn it, but before he could recover, a tall, pale demon with ice blue eyes came out to meet them. This was the infamous ice king of the Demon Consulate, Mobei Jun.

“You’re back,” he said curtly, giving a half nod to Binghe, but that was it as far as greetings went. He truly was as cold as he was rumored to be. 

"We're looking for Sha Hualing, we're worried she might have come here," Luo Binghe explained briefly, not at all put off by the chilly reception.

Mobei Jun looked past them, his eyes narrowed as though he was thinking deeply. Then he pointed at the window behind them.

"She's keying your car."

Shen Yuan yelped and ran outside—Shen Jiu would _not_ forgive him if anything happened to the car and there Sha Hualing was, a metal-tipped nail about to scratch the finish. 

She laughed when she saw Shen Yuan and waved at him merrily before hopping on her motorcycle and speeding off into traffic, the other members of her gang surrounding her.

Binghe was already holding the front seat back so Xin Mo could jump inside, and Shen Yuan hurried to get behind the wheel, not thrilled to have to be the one leading this car chase when he suspected he was not the best driver in the car. It was possible even Xin Mo was a better driver than him. 

“What exactly do we do if we catch up?” Shen Yuan asked, weaving through traffic as best as he could, “they outnumber us.”

“They’re heading towards the highway,” Binghe replied, ignoring the question.

“I can see that,” Shen Yuan said, merging over the two lanes towards the highway entrance as quickly as he could, wincing at the sound of horns behind him.

“I only mentioned it because you’re still driving under the speed limit.”

“Safe driving is important, ok? You can take over anytime.”

“You should know that I can’t do that.”

“I should know that, huh? Look, now still isn’t a good time, but I think we should talk about—”

“—how she probably tampered with your car just now?”

“What?” Shen Yuan yelled. Xin Mo barked, possibly in agreement, from the backseat.

“It’s Sha Hualing, you know how destructive she can be when she gets like this.”

Shen Yuan, in fact, did not know how destructive she could be, except for exhibits A and B, burning down their respective houses.

“So you’re saying it doesn’t make sense that she was just trying to scratch the finish when she’s made arson her new hobby.”

“Exactly,” Binghe agreed. 

“So we should pull over,” Shen Yuan said, trying not to panic.

“No, we need to follow her or she could burn down the entire city next.”

“Are you serious?”

“Keep driving, I’ll look for an igniter,” he said, and contorted his body around in some way that allowed his broad shoulders to fit in the gap between the passenger seat and the driver’s seat and dove in the back.

“Look, I was waiting for things to calm down, but clearly they’re just going to keep escalating, so—where did he go?” Shen Yuan looked in the rearview mirror briefly and saw Luo Binghe climb out the window and onto the roof of the sportscar, “YOU BETTER NOT FALL OFF,” he shouted, and caught a brief thumbs up as the only response.

In front of them, the demons were jeering at him, but none of them were attacking, so at least there was that.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, and raised his voice so that Luo Binghe could hear him while he did… whatever he was doing on top of the car. “So at this point I think it’s pretty clear that you know I’m not Shen Qingqiu. I don’t even know if it would matter to you if I told you who I am, but I literally can’t anyway, it’s one of the rules I’m bound to.” 

The orders from heaven had been very clear when he’d been given clearance for the vessel he was in: don’t tell anyone who you are, don’t tell them how you died, don’t try to stay once the job was done. They were absolute, and the consequence for breaking the rules would be hell, literally, and not a slap on the wrist.

“I’m not doing this to have a good time—Xin Mo, keep your head in the car! Thank you, no, don’t—don’t lick my face, I’m driving, Binghe is he hungry or happy? I don’t speak dire wolf!”

Binghe, who was now on the side of the car, working his way toward the hood poked his head through the open window, looked at Xin Mo and said, “he’s not trying to eat you. This time,” and then scrambled onto the hood, what the fuck.

“So yeah, I didn’t want this. Who would want to dress up like their—your partner just to fuck around and find out? It’s not part of a normal desire. I’ve moved on, you don’t know how hard it’s been just to—fuck,” he swore as Binghe twisted himself back into the front seat, a pretzel unfolding from the passenger window.

“The point is, you can trust me, I swear to you,” he finished. 

“Hmm,” Binghe said, “part your legs, I need to check the pedals for the igniter, it’s the only place I haven’t looked.”

“Did you miss what I just said?” Shen Yuan asked incredulously.

“Was it important?” Binghe asked, his tone still standoffish as he reached between Shen Yuan’s legs and pulled his thighs apart. 

“Is that really necessary,” Shen Yuan asked faintly, as Binghe skated his large fingers down the inside of his thighs and down his calf. Ahead of him, the demons spread out across the lanes and began to slow down, and he had to brake suddenly worried he’d crash into them, but the brake felt strange and the car was still speeding ahead.

“Yes,” Binghe said, “because I just watched you trigger the igniter.”

Shen Yuan had already gathered this from the fact that the car was now on fire. He immediately jerked his wheel towards the highway exit. He still couldn’t slow down, so the brake line had been cut as well, which was fabulous. Shen Yuan pulled the handbrake, but it only slowed them a little bit, clearly not designed for this situation.

The exit let off near the docks, not far from the Lotus Pier campus. Shen Yuan was vaguely aware that the demons were behind them, chasing them now, instead of the other way around, and he thought, wildly, that he should just drive the car in the lake to put out the fire when Binghe grabbed the wheel and steered them towards a large pile of crates instead.

“What are you doing?” Shen Yuan asked.

“You can’t swim,” Luo Binghe replied grimly. 

He could, in fact, but it was too late. The car smashed into the crates, finally stopping as cheap wood smashed all around them, something yellow and squeaking fountaining up from the wreckage.

Shen Yuan stumbled from the car, just coherent enough to pull the seat so Xin Mo could climb out after him. 

The car exploded a second later, and Shen Yuan realized that the crates were filled with rubber ducks as one landed on his lap with a sad squeak. 

He resisted the urge to throw it in Luo Binghe’s stupidly pretty face as the man calmly walked over to him and held out a hand to help him up.

The demons all poured onto the dock behind them, trapping them against the water.

“This is your last chance, Luo Binghe,” Sha Hualing menaced, climbing off her motorcycle with enviable grace, “come back with us.”

“Or?”

“Or what?” She asked, taken aback.

“Come back or what? You’ve already burnt the place I live, there’s not much more you can do to escalate things without risking your diplomatic immunity,” Binghe said reasonably.

“There are more things I can burn,” she said unconvincingly, and then turned, startled, as one of her men raised a gun at them.

“What are you doing?” Sha Hualing asked, “We’re not here to kill anyone.”

“You're here to bring him back to the demon realm. I'm here to eliminate him,” the demon looked utterly ruthless, no longer just a background goon for a spoiled arsonist, “Luo Binghe, you’ve survived your exile and the Endless Abyss, but let’s see how you deal with a bullet laced with poison.”

“Where did you even get a gun?” Sha Hualing yelled, even as the gun fired.

Shen Yuan threw himself in front of Luo Binghe, desperate in a way he hadn’t felt since he died the first time. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be the second time, he wasn’t sure how much punishment his vessel could really take. Likely, if ‘Shen Qingqiu’ visibly died, they’d just pull him from the field, since his brother’s cover would then be more solid than ever.

He fell back against the solid mass of Binghe’s chest. There was a dull, aching pain in his side, from the bullet, and something radiated from the spot that hurt worse than pain, a hungry mouth tearing at his meridians, draining his qi faster than the wound drained of blood. 

His vision began to go dark. It was too bad, he thought, as hostile and withdrawn as Binghe had been all day, it had really been good to see him again. 

####  **6\. Luo Binghe steps on a rubber duck**

Luo Binghe had been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since he’d begun to realize his partner had been replaced with some kind of smiling pod-person. Only Shen Qingqiu’s evil imposter would be noticeably nicer than the real thing. Would he lure Binghe into a trap? Attack him when his guard was down? He’d focused so much of his attention on preventing any threats from that direction that he was far too slow to push him out of the way when he dove in front of the bullet heading directly for Luo Binghe’s chest.

He caught the fragile body as it fell limply against him, and gently lowered it to the ground on a cushioning pile of ducks, not daring to check if he was alive. 

Sha Hualing was screaming at the demon, and Luo Binghe used the distraction to grab him, wrapping his hands around his neck and lifting him struggling into the air. 

“What was the poison?” he asked, and squeezed. He could feel his own anger, radiating up and spreading through him to Xin Mo and back again, magnified in the way it only got when he was losing control. Xin Mo growled menacingly, the sound unearthly.

The demon only gurgled.

“He can’t talk if you squeeze too hard,” Sha Hualing said, and then held up her hands defensively, “I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve it.”

Binghe relaxed his hand slightly, trembling with the effort of holding back, and the demon choked out a nasty sounding laugh, “Without a Cure,” he said, “say goodbye to your partner.”

“What,” Binghe repeated coldly, “was the poison.”

“Without a Cure is the name of the poison,” Sha Hualing said quietly, “because there’s no known cure. It affects qi, not the body.”

Binghe resisted the urge to snap the demon’s neck, barely, but he did make sure he was unconscious before he tossed him to the ground.

Sha Hualing made a face, and then held out a few qi suppressing zip ties. “We’ll come quietly,” she said.

The rubber ducks were scattered all over the ground and Binghe stepped on one carelessly as he made his way back to Shen Qingqiu’s limp body. The squeak it made was terrifyingly loud and Shen Qingqiu shot up with a gasp at the sound. “Fuck,” he said.

“You’re alive,” Binghe said, disbelievingly.

Shen Qingqiu just laughed bitterly, sounding like himself for the first time that day.

####  **7\. Shen Yuan is Scolded Ineffectively by Yue Qingyuan**

“On your first day, you've destroyed Xiao Jiu's courtyard, blown up his car, and poisoned yourself," Yue Qingyuan reprimanded Shen Yuan severely once he’d been seen and released from the infirmary by Mu Qingfang.

Technically Sha Hualing was really responsible for most of those things, Shen Yuan thought privately, but Yue Qingyuan didn't look like he would accept an argument, so Shen Yuan batted his lashes and tried to look contrite.

"That expression," Yue Qingyuan paused, and then sighed, "I can't fight with Xiao Jiu— _you_ —when you do that, but please take more care. You know your brother wouldn't leap in front of someone like that just to save them, and you shouldn't either. What did Mu Qingfang say about it?"

"The poison affects my cultivation, but it can be mitigated by having someone help circulate my qi."

"You didn't know that, though, did you?"

Shen Yuan didn't answer.

"Xiao Jiu would be hurt if he knew what had happened to you." 

Yue Qingyuan sighed again, rubbing his temple tiredly, "To prevent any further calamity to Shen Jiu's things, I'm using the excuse of the courtyard's repairs to move you to the bamboo house in the Qing Jing quadrant. It's sedate and well-protected there, and will hopefully remain so."

Shen Yuan nodded agreeably. He could be a sedate person. Sometimes.

"What about Luo Binghe? That awful supply shed you had him in is completely ruined." 

"I was hoping he could stay at the Consulate," Yue Qingyuan admitted, looking a little guilty.

Shen Yuan scowled, "That's not right. He works for you, doesn't he? He deserves his own place!”

“He can stay at the consulate then,” Yue Qingyuan said. “Technically, he works more for them than us.”

“That’s ridiculous, 90% of his job is here! He'll move in with me and can take the bamboo house once I'm gone and Shen Jiu comes back. His courtyard should be repaired by then.”

“Hmm,” Yue Qingyuan looked at him thoughtfully. “You always were soft on that boy, weren’t you? Alright, he can stay in the bamboo house. He can help you mitigate the poison, too.”

A polite, but insistent knock came at the door.

Taking the opportunity, Shen Yuan stood up and bowed, “I’ll leave you to your next guest.”

“Thank you,” Yue Qingyuan said, seeing through the excuse, but allowing it as always.

Shen Yuan opened the door to Luo Binghe, his wolf sitting just at his heels, their identical red forehead markings glowing faintly in the evening light. 

“Oh, good, Binghe! I’ll wait for you to be done, hmm?” Shen Yuan said.

Binghe gave him an unreadable expression, but nodded calmly.

####  **8\. Luo Binghe Finally Gets Answers (and a Roommate) (omg they were roommates)**

“Binghe, come in and shut the door,” Yue Qingyuan ordered.

“I have evidence,” Luo Binghe cut in, knowing Yue Qingyuan’s patience with him was usually somewhat short, “whoever that person is, it’s not Shen Qingqiu."

He began ticking the points off on his fingers, "He smiled at me, he didn’t remember the thing he asked me to bring him from the Endless Abyss, he offered to let me _drive_ , he ate _melon seeds_ , and he jumped in front of me when I was being attacked.”

“Xiao Jiu does hate melon seeds,” Yue Qingyuan nodded, “it’s all extremely out of character, I agree, and I’ve already talked to him about it. You could be more grateful though.”

“Sir?”

“Sit down, Binghe.”

Binghe sat obediently, at a loss for words.

“I tried to get you earlier today, but with the fires there wasn’t time. Shen Qingqiu—Shen Jiu, is on an assignment, deep undercover. Don’t ask me about it, you’re not authorized to know. What you _do_ need to know is that the person you’ve been working with today is someone I have absolute trust in. You will continue working with him to protect the real Shen Qingqiu’s cover. Understood?”

Xin Mo barked in agreement, and Luo Binghe turned to stare at him, “What do you mean he’s a friend? You just met him today.”

Xin Mo whined and gently mouthed his hand until Binghe ruffled the fur on his head, “He just feels familiar, huh?”

“His identity is strictly confidential,” Yue Qingyuan warned the wolf sternly. 

Xin Mo huffed and looked away.

Binghe nodded obediently, but he knew he’d dwell on it more later, whether or not he was supposed to know the imposter, there were only so many living people that Xin Mo truly liked. 

  
  
  


When Yue Qingyuan dismissed him, Luo Binghe found Shen Qingqiu waiting for him outside. A small breeze was blowing the sleeves of his robe and strands of his hair, a tangle of white and black. His resting face was serene, lacking Shen Qingqiu’s habitual scowl, and he smiled gently when he saw Binghe as he had been doing all day. Earlier, the strangeness of it had sent shivers down his spine, but now it felt unexpectedly nice, like turning the tap on and getting water at exactly the temperature you wanted.

“He’s told you?” Shen Qingqiu asked, “I’m sorry it’s been so awkward all day, but…”

Luo Binghe cleared his throat, cutting off the apology. Speaking lowly enough they wouldn’t be overheard, he began, "I should introduce myself to you properly this time. My name is Luo Binghe, I first came to Cang Qiong on the trail of the killers of my father, and, for reasons that don’t need exploring at this juncture, remained attached as a liaison with the demon consulate.”

“It’s good to meet you, Luo Binghe,” he said, still smiling and so perfectly at odds with how he’d reacted when Luo Binghe met Shen Qingqiu the first time that he felt like he was dreaming. And then, as if to confirm that none of this was real, he held up a set of keys and said, “Should we check out our new home together?”

Binghe hadn’t had a real home since his adoptive mother died.

Xin Mo barked excitedly in reply, which saved Binghe from answering, dancing happily around his feet until Shen Qingqiu knelt and scratched his neck, and then his belly when he rolled over, tongue lolling out of his mouth. 

  
  
  


The bamboo house was in a lovely part of the Cang Qiong sect campus, landscaped with tall bamboo, small and clear running streams, and pristine gravel paths.

Inside, however, it was dusty, which Shen Qingqiu seemed to not notice until Xin Mo began sneezing.

“We need to clean this place before anything else,” Shen Qingqiu said.

“Or we could just live like this,” Binghe said dryly, clearly joking, except Shen Qingqiu seemed to take him seriously.

“If it was just us, sure, but what about Xin Mo?” he said, and then he rolled up his sleeves, and, before Binghe could stop him, channeled qi into his fan to sweep a windstorm through the house. Some of the dust did go out the windows, but most of it just swirled in the air until Xin Mo ran out of the house, and even Binghe was teary-eyed and coughing. 

Shen Qingqiu looked so aggrieved and disappointed that Luo Binghe didn’t tell him off and just asked, when he could breathe normally, if he’d ever learned to clean the normal way.

Shen Qingqiu batted the dust off his sleeves and admitted, “yeah, when I was a kid, I used to be a… well, I used to clean. But I always wanted to try some shortcuts, and I was never allowed to.”

Binghe pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, “We can get dust-repelling charms from An Ding later to help with the upkeep, but for now, I think we need rags and buckets.”

  
  
  


Once the dust was cleared out, the house looked very nice. Cozy rather than elegant, with natural light and gleaming wood. The kitchen was decently sized, which would be an excellent change from having to cook with plug-in appliances or braving the ascetic Cang Qiong cafeteria. 

The only problem was that the rooms were of vastly different sizes, and Shen Qingqiu kept insisting on taking the small one. 

“The entire house is going to be yours after I leave,” was his final argument, which caught Binghe so off guard he couldn’t argue back. He’d assumed that the house was going to be primarily Shen Qingqiu’s and that he was just allowed to stay until there was a new supply shed (or somewhere else equally cramped, but filled with less expensive office equipment). 

“So it’s settled then,” Shen Qingqiu said loftily, sweeping off into his new room with his chin raised, almost like the real Shen Qingqiu until he spoiled it by looking over his shoulder and biting his lip nervously, “...if that’s ok with you?”

“Can I really stay here?” he asked, his voice coming out a little raw in a way he would absolutely blame on the dust if questioned.

“In the room? Yes,” Shen Qingqiu confirmed, tapping his fan for emphasis, “In this house? Yes. Permanently. In Cang Qiong? Yes. Binghe, this is your home too, and I’ve made sure Yue Qingyuan understands that.”

Xin Mo nudged Shen Qingqiu’s hip so hard he fell backward, stumbling into the smaller room, “Ok, ok, I’m going! Master Xin Mo, the large room is all yours, why are you coming into mine? No, this bed isn’t big enough for both of us!”

Luo Binghe let out a deep, gasping breath as soon as they were out of sight, the sound of Shen Qingqiu’s bickering and Xin Mo’s playful barks covering the sound. He made his way to his room, already furnished pleasantly with more storage spaces than he had belongings to fill, and a large double bed. 

There was even a closet, he noticed, and he pulled it open to check the size of it, only to see a large, sumptuously decorated lounge, larger than the closet should be, with colorful tapestries, bookshelves, and a daybed strewn with so many cushions they spilled off it onto the floor. It was so far from what he expected to see that he blinked his eyes a few times, but the room was still there when he fully opened them. So was his father.

“What? What are you doing here? Where is this?”

“It’s your closet,” Tianlang Jun said as though it should be obvious, looking up from his book with an innocent expression. He was sprawled in a nest of cushions, wearing only his inner robes, which were shamelessly open in front. Luo Binghe was unfortunately used to that by now, but the rest of the set-up was new.

“This doesn’t look like a closet!” Binghe protested.

“Well I made some improvements, obviously, I can’t just live in a closet.”

“You can’t _live_ anywhere, you’re dead!”

“Not with that attitude I can’t. Where’s your filial piety?”

“I must have left it in the other closet,” Binghe said, and slammed the door shut. 

**Author's Note:**

> blanket permission for any and all derivative works including art, podfics, remixes, etc.


End file.
